


For Whatever We Lose

by bobs



Series: Starling Elementary [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Kid Fic, Math is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4690004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobs/pseuds/bobs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a regular, normal, average day in May. The sun is shining and it’s Friday, which makes Oliver wish he was outside instead of writing a stupid math test.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A new look at the same universe. A little bit older, a little bit wiser.
> 
> Title from the poem by e.e. cummings 'maggy and milly and molly and may'. 
> 
> "For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)  
> its always ourselves we find in the sea."
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s a regular, normal, average day in May. The sun is shining and it’s Friday, which makes Oliver wish he was outside instead of writing a stupid math test. The weekend is so close that Oliver can almost taste it. And he’s got big plans for this weekend. He and Tommy are having a sleepover, as usual, but Tommy has just gotten the newest Playstation, along with all the new games, and Oliver can’t wait to break it in in the Merlyn’s awesome theatre room.

“Ten minutes left, everyone. Make sure you’re finishing up and checking your answers,” Ms. Rowan announces as she roams around the room, making sure they’re all keeping their eyes on their own papers. 

Oliver looks down at his test and curses himself at all the blank answers he has left. He’s not nearly done and he knows if he brings home another bad mark his dad is going to be angry, again. Robert Queen has big dreams for Oliver and they apparently all require him to be a brainiac like Felicity.

Speaking of Felicity, out of the corner of his eye he can just see her desk. In September, Ms. Rowan quickly moved them apart after discovering Felicity’s tendency to talk and talk and talk to Oliver whenever she could, rather than paying attention in class. Somehow only Oliver’s had grades suffered. Felicity seems to get good grades no matter what.

Even now, Oliver’s pretty sure she’s probably been done her test for awhile, considering the amount of doodles on the back of her paper. Felicity gets harder math work than everybody else in their third grade class, and as she is constantly telling Oliver she reads at an eighth grade level, but she also gets the best grades.

Further across the room, Tommy scowls down at his own test. He’s obviously not done and he looks pretty grumpy about that fact. Tommy hates math. The only thing he hates more is when he loses a video game to Oliver. And Tommy really hates losing. 

“Five minutes.” 

Ms. Rowan interrupts Oliver’s rambling train of thought and he gives his head a shake, looking at the questions on his test that still need answers. Multiplication. Oliver’s nemesis.

He manages to figure out a few more problems and then Ms. Rowan’s calling out to put their pencils down and Felicity is waving her hand in the air, asking to collect everyone’s work.

She bops her way around the room until she has an armful of papers. When she reaches Oliver’s desk, he adds his to the top of his pile. It’s basically right under her nose, so he knows she sees the blanks he’s left and looks down, avoiding her eyes. Sometimes it’s hard having a friend who is so effortlessly brilliant. Even though he knows Felicity would help him with multiplication if he asked, he doesn’t want her to think he’s dumb.

She doesn’t say anything, just sighs and moves away, handing off the papers to the teacher and returning to her desk. Oliver catches sight of the clock and feels a burst of excitement chase away his glum post-math-test mood. There’s only twenty minutes until the end of the day, and then they’re free for two whole days! Thank goodness.

Ms. Rowan looks at the clock too and decides that there’s no point in trying to teach a bunch of restless third graders anything new twenty minutes before the weekend, and gives them free time for the rest of the day.

Oliver and Tommy beeline for the games shelf. There are only a few good games in there and they always seem to get stuck with Monopoly, which is missing a billion pieces and Oliver hates anyways.

Tommy elbows Adam Donner out of the way and grabs _Sorry!_ off the shelf. Adam gives Tommy a dirty look and chooses a sad looking deck of cards for himself instead.

“Score!” Oliver crows, punching a fist into the air. He loves bumping Tommy back to the start because he gets super grumpy every time. “Come on, let’s play at my desk!” 

A few minutes later, in an astonishing turn of events, Tommy has just sent Oliver’s game piece back to the start again, when the PA above the door crackles to life.

“Tommy Merlyn, to the office. Tommy Merlyn, please come to the office immediately.” The secretary’s scratchy voice is drowned out by a chorus of “oohs” from their classmates. 

Tommy rolls his eyes and pushes to his feet. “Hey, Smoak! Come finish this game for me.” Felicity’s head pops up over the top of her book, blue eyes wide, a startled look on her face. Oliver’s pretty sure she has no idea what Tommy’s talking about, but he pats her gently on the shoulder as he leaves and she watches him go, then turns to look at Oliver expectantly.

“Tommy had to go to the office,” Oliver fills in. “He wants you to play for him until he gets back.”

Understanding dawns and she carefully marks her page before joining Oliver at his desk. 

“You’re lucky, Tommy was winning, so now you’re winning,” Oliver tells her, rolling the dice. “But I’m pretty awesome at this game. Tommy just had a couple lucky turns, so I wouldn’t count on a win.”

Felicity narrows her eyebrows at him. “Challenge accepted.”

Before they know it the bell has rung, the game isn't finished, and Tommy hasn’t returned. After tidying up the pieces and board and packing his belongings to go home, Oliver waits outside the classroom, his eyes peeled for his friend. Felicity joins him, a stack of books clutched in her arms. Her fingernails catch his eye because they're painted a bright sunny yellow. Her thumbs even have little black happy faces on them. They’re absurdly cheerful, which he thinks fits Felicity perfectly.

The hallways are clearing out, the sounds of shouting and laughter echoing around him as most kids scramble away from school as quickly as they can, but Tommy hasn’t come back to get his stuff yet. For some reason, Oliver feels a nervous ball of energy building in the pit of his stomach. His fingers rub together as he scans the hallway, looking for any sign of his friend’s return. 

Felicity shifts her weight back and forth beside him. “Are you okay?” she asks, looking at him with concern in her eyes. Oliver knows that Felicity can sometimes live in her own little bubble because her brain moves so much faster than everybody else’s, but she’s also one of his best friends and she knows him better than almost anyone. “You’re doing that finger rubbing thing, which always means that you’re nervous or anxious. Not that- I don't mean that you’re always nervous. You’re actually a pretty calm person, which I think is impressive when you’re almost nine, and you’re a boy, and boys generally have more energy than girls and I am rambling and not helping at all so I will be stopping in 3, 2, 1.” 

Felicity takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, then opens them and gives him a bright smile. “Sorry. Brain to mouth connection is not quite there yet.” It’s so typically Felicity that the nerves in Oliver’s stomach seem to settle. 

He smiles hesitantly back at her, then it fades as he remembers why they’re waiting around after the bell. “Tommy’s not back yet. Do you think everything is okay?”

Felicity seriously considers his question. “Well, it’s never a good thing when you’re kept in the office after school,” she says slowly, like she’s choosing each word carefully. “But I think that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions until we know all the facts.”

She’s probably right, Oliver knows, but his brain can’t help but jump to the most illogical conclusions he can come up with.

Ms. Rowan strides out the door a few minutes later and almost drops the stack of math tests she's carrying when she catches sight of them. “Oh my goodness! Oliver, Felicity, what are you still doing here?”

“Tommy’s not back yet,” Oliver repeats. “We’re waiting for him.” 

A cloud seems to come over Ms. Rowan’s face and she brushes a fallen strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I think that you both need to head home, and that Tommy will join you when he can,” she says carefully. Her normally animated voice is soft and sends alarm bells clanging in his head. He looks at Felicity, who is watching their teacher with a puzzled look on her face.

“Okay,” Felicity says, drawing out the word. “Well, let’s go, Oliver. Bye, Ms. Rowan. Have a good weekend.” She heads towards the doors and Oliver follows in her footsteps without thinking, his thoughts elsewhere, giving Ms. Rowan a less than heartfelt goodbye.

He nearly slams into Felicity when she abruptly stops before they get to the doors. “Oof! Felicity, why’d you stop?” He grabs onto her shoulders so he doesn’t fall over like a dummy and gets a mouthful of her ponytail in the process.

Felicity turns to face him and he drops his hands to his sides. She looks over his shoulder before meeting his eyes. “Shh,” she says, blue eyes wide. “Oliver. Do you really just want to go home and wait to hear from Tommy?”

Oliver shakes his head emphatically. “No. Of course not. I want to find out what’s going on.”

“Me too. Something’s not right,” she adds. There’s a kind of crafty look on her face that Oliver hasn’t seen before and he wonders what’s going on in her head. Her thoughts move way faster than his own, so it’s probably a really good idea. “So we’re going to-”

Her mouth snaps closed and she suddenly grabs the sleeve of Oliver’s shirt with one hand, dragging him around the corner and out of sight. “Shhhh,” she says dramatically, shushing him again even though he wasn’t saying anything.

“I wasn’t saying anything,” he protests aloud, shaking her hand off his sleeve.

Felicity eyes him knowingly, then sticks her head out around the corner. “Okay,” she says, a little bit breathlessly. “The coast is clear. We’re going to go to the office and get to the bottom of this whole thing. Once we find Tommy, he’ll tell us that everything is all right and then we can go home and our weekends can all get back to their regularly scheduled activities.”

Oliver stares at her, because of any of them, Felicity is the last one he’d ever picture breaking the rules.

She seems to read his thoughts and adds, “It’s Tommy. Now come on.”

She leaves her books and backpack on the floor and Oliver quickly wriggles out of his own. With a quick peek around the corner they dart down the hall, and after a high-speed dodge behind an open door when the janitor backs out of a classroom, they arrive undiscovered at the main office. 

The wall is mostly glass, so it’s immediately clear that the room is empty upon first glance.

“Where is he?” Oliver whispers, as they huddle outside the office, trying to remain hidden. “There’s no one here.”

Felicity’s eyes move slowly across the room until they come to rest on the closed door of the principal. “In there,” she says decisively, and then she’s marching in and banging her fist on the door.

Oliver scrambles after her, not about to let her get into trouble alone if she’s wrong. They’re in this together.

 After an agonizing moment, the door swings open and their principal, Mr. Woolley, towers over top of them. He’s holding the round glasses that are always perched on his nose in his hand and his eyes are suspiciously red.

“Miss Smoak. Mister Queen. What exactly are you doing here?” Mr. Woolley looks behind them, like there’s an adult who has brought them here and can answer his question.

“We’re looking for Tommy Merlyn, Mr. Woolley. He came down here before the bell rang and he hasn’t been back to get his stuff yet and we’re really worried.” Felicity’s voice wobbles at the end and Oliver swallows before threading their fingers together. Her hand is kind of cold. Felicity is always complaining that she’s cold. Oliver hopes he can make her feel a little better. He gives her fingers what he hopes is a comforting squeeze.

Mr. Woolley purses his lips, then sighs softly. “You’re both good friends for coming to check on him,” he says, making eye contact with each of them in turn, “but Mr. Merlyn has gone home. Tommy got some, well, some quite upsetting news, and I think he will need the both of you to be there for him. I suggest seeking him out as soon as you can.”

Oliver’s stomach drops, like when he rode the Tower of Terror at Disney World last year, and his hand squeezes tighter around Felicity’s. She squeezes back just as hard.

“What do you mean, upsetting? What happened?” Felicity asks, and Oliver can hear the panic in her voice. He knows she’s probably remembering last year’s incident with Slade Wilson but he pushes all that out of his head because Slade is gone and Tommy’s not and Tommy definitely needs them right now.

“I can’t say any more, Miss Smoak. Go see Tommy.” Mr. Woolley wishes them a good weekend and retreats to his office, rubbing at his temples as he shuts the door firmly behind him.

Oliver and Felicity turn to look at each other, holding a quick conversation without speaking. Wordlessly, they turn and run, back to their bags, out the door, and straight to the Merlyn’s.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely reviews, kudos, etc - they are SO appreciated! I think there will be one more chapter after this one to wrap up this snapshot of Oliver and Felicity's lives, and then we'll be on to something a little cheerier? ...although I seem to gravitate towards the angst, so we'll have to see.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

Felicity sits on the swing, toes dragging through the sand beneath her. She’s not sure how long she’s been sitting here, but the sun has set and there’s a chill winding it’s way through her bones. The park is deserted, not a soul around, and for the first time in days Felicity feels like the giant elephant on her chest has vacated his post. She has always been an introverted child, occupying herself and getting lost in her thoughts for hours at a time. Her mom understands and usually leaves her to her own devices, knowing that Felicity will surface eventually, and Oliver seems to recognize this about her too. He can tell when she needs to be alone and when Felicity had desperately met his eyes across the room he had instantly taken any attention off her, letting her slip away undetected.

She knows that Tommy needs her to be his friend, needs her to hold his hand, or offer to play a game to get his mind off of things, or to make him hot chocolate, but she just needs this one moment to herself. She needs to work through what’s happened on her own so that when she returns to Oliver and Tommy, who are probably huddled in his bedroom, she can fully focus on them and not the millions of thoughts whirling through her head.

The one currently at the forefront is: What if it was her mom?

What if her mom was just suddenly gone one day? There in the morning sending her to school and then, poof. 

Gone. 

She’d be an orphan. Like Annie. No parents to take care of her, to make her lunches or to take her to the library, to fuss over her when she gets a cough. Her dad is already gone. He left her as a baby so there’s no way he’d bother coming back to take care of a nine year old. Who even knows where in the world he is. Maybe he has a brand new family.

Her mom is all she has.

There’s a pressure building up in her chest, pinpricks of tears behind her eyes. All of a sudden Felicity really wants her mom. She wants to snuggle into her arms, bury her nose in her neck to smell the perfume she dabs there every morning. Wants to let her tuck her into bed the way she used to. Her mom used to recite all the things that made Felicity special as she tucked the blankets around her nice and tight; things like you’re beautiful and smart and kind. You’re going places, you are my favourite person, I will always be here for you.

She doesn’t do it every night now, because Felicity has deemed herself old enough to put herself into bed, and sometimes her mom doesn’t even get home until after Felicity’s in bed anyways, but right now, Felicity wishes her mom was here. Because it’s become apparent that parents don’t live forever. 

Felicity can’t even imagine what Tommy is going through right now. Tommy’s mom was so sweet, just a really kind human being who genuinely cared about people. She never looked down at Felicity, like Oliver’s parents sometimes did, and she always had a plate of treats ready when they hung out at the Merlyn’s house. Felicity sort of looked up to Rebecca Merlyn, because she had what seemed like a perfect life - a loving husband, a pretty cool son, a beautiful house, and a big heart. She wanted to build a clinic in the Glades for the people living there.

Felicity pretty much lives in the Glades, so she knows what the people are like there, what they live with every day, and if Rebecca had succeeded Felicity knows that she would have helped so many people. She wonders if Tommy’s dad will open the clinic anyways. She hopes so and she’d like to think that Rebecca would want that too, although logically, Felicity knows that Tommy’s mom can’t want anything anymore because…

Well. She died. 

Run down by a random gang member as she tried to help the very people who killed her. Felicity is pretty sure she’s not supposed to know those grisly details, but she and Oliver had huddled outside the door of the sitting room earlier as Tommy’s dad had met with a collection of people she mostly didn’t recognize. They’d just arrived, red-faced and out of breath after running from school, and on the way to Tommy’s room Felicity had overheard Mr. Merlyn’s angry voice. 

Yanking Oliver to a stop, they’d pressed themselves up against the wall, both listening silently as Tommy’s dad argued with the chief of police. She pictures Oliver’s stony face, lips pressed tightly together, eyes focused in the distance, and remembers how her own fingers had gripped the doorway so tightly it had left imprints on her skin. 

There was no good way to find out your best friend’s mom had died, but overhearing Mr. Merlyn cursing at the police for not doing enough to save his wife after she was shot in the street was devastating. Felicity had never heard his voice sound like that. She didn’t know if she’d ever forget it.

They had quickly scrambled down the hallway at the sound of movement, back on the mission to hunt Tommy down. Felicity had pretended not to notice Oliver scraping his hands over his eyes, and they both silently came to a mutual decision not to tell Tommy what they’d overheard downstairs.

Shaking off the memory, Felicity breathes deeply and twines her fingers around the chains of the swing. She pushes her toes off the ground one more time, knowing that soon she needs to return inside. Her mom let her stay at Tommy’s house and knows the basics about what’s happened after a tearful phone call from Felicity, but she definitely doesn’t have permission to be at the park down the street from the Merlyn’s, alone and after dark. Tommy needs her. Oliver needs her too. Tommy and Oliver are so close that Tommy’s mom is like Oliver’s second mom. They’ve both lost something that someone so young shouldn’t have to lose. 

Felicity’s heart hurts and she tips her head to the sky, letting the stars shine down on her, wondering if Tommy’s mom is now watching them all struggle through losing her.

There’s a rustling behind her that startles Felicity out of her thoughts and sends a ball of nerves hurtling through her tummy. Images of what happened to Rebecca dance through her mind. She’s not in the Glades but the thought that no place is every truly safe runs through her mind. Digging her toes into the ground Felicity forces herself to a stop, eyes darting around and surveying her surroundings.

“Felicity?” 

The voice is hesitant and sad and tears spring to her eyes because she’s never heard him sound so lost.

Leaping off the swing, Felicity finds Tommy standing behind her. His eyes are red, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts. He looks small, standing amongst the trees lining the park, and Felicity’s heart thumps painfully in her chest. 

“Tommy,” she croaks, wiping furiously at her cheeks. “What are you doing out here?”

He doesn’t meet her eyes, keeping his gaze on her shoes. “I got worried. You’ve been gone a long time.”

Her stomach sinks. Like Tommy needs another thing to worry about, she chastises herself. Why can’t she just be a normal friend who can grieve with other people?

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice small. “I just- I needed to- I can’t-” 

And Felicity, the queen of babbling, can’t find the words to tell Tommy what’s going through her head. But he understands, because he’s Tommy, and he’s one of her best friends, and he just gets her, and he nods shortly before striding forwards and plunking himself on her recently vacated swing.

“Give me a push?” he asks, and she gulps and nods, which he can’t see with his back to her, so she places her hands firmly in the centre of his back and shoves. He doesn’t go far, which is a testament to her lack of upper body strength, but she pushes him again, and again, and again until it sends him far enough that he must feel like he’s reaching the stars.

She steps back and watches as he leans backwards, head reaching for the ground, eyes looking up to the heavens. She knows from experience the drop you get in your tummy when you suddenly sit up and wonders if that’s what he needs right now. He seems sad, even kind of forlorn, but Felicity doesn’t think that it’s really hit him yet. Maybe he needs a jolt to make him understand that what’s going on is real, that this is permanent. His mom isn’t coming back.

There are tears on her cheeks again and she shoves her hands in her pockets, leaning against the cool metal of the swing set and allowing herself this one moment of grief as Tommy swings like a pendulum in front of her, trying to escape the reality that is now his life.

“I don’t know what to do.”

The words startle Felicity out of her thoughts and she looks around for a moment before realizing that the words have come from Tommy and that he’s no longer swinging but just sitting, much like Felicity had been before he’d found her. Apparently her thinking spot is popular. 

He’s waiting for an answer, she thinks, but she doesn’t have one for him. She may be smart, but her dad left without a goodbye and she’s never met her grandparents. She’s never had to say goodbye to anyone, let alone a parent who should be tucking you in, not resting in a morgue downtown - at least that’s where TV police dramas that she shouldn't be watching have led Felicity to believe Rebecca Merlyn is now, but she really doesn’t know for sure, and she’s just going to stop that train of thought right now because Tommy needs her and she is here for him.

Felicity walks forwards him, circling around and stopping in front of him, just an arm’s reach away. “I don’t know either,” she confesses, voice soft in the night breeze, “But I do know two things: you have so many people who are here for you, who care about you and who aren’t going to let you go through this alone. And I don’t know what comes next, but I’ll be here with you to face it.”

Tommy sniffles and draws a line in the sand with his toe. Felicity presses her lips together because there’s so much she wants to say but none of it is probably the right thing, and so she just crosses the line and rests her hand on Tommy’s shoulder, lending him comfort without a word.

 

***

 

Oliver sits on a bench in the Merlyn’s backyard, the stone warm beneath him. The sun is shining brightly and it just doesn’t seem right. Today they’ve buried Tommy’s mom. He feels miserable and he figures the weather should echo that, but instead it’s mocking them all.

His suit is choking him, making him sweat in places that he didn’t know and would have been okay never discovering even made sweat. Oliver is sure that if Rebecca knew what they were up to, she would’ve rather had them all say goodbye in their most comfortable clothes. She was never one for fancy affairs. 

Oliver has spent many nights at Tommy’s, lots of them when their parents went out to various benefits together. Rebecca always wore appropriately fancy dresses. She would wish them a good night with the babysitter, but Oliver could tell that she’d much rather be snuggled in her PJ’s on the couch with them than headed out to a classy party.

Pulling at his collar, Oliver glances around. The backyard is filled with people in dark colours, come to pay their respects to one of Starling City’s most promising residents. His parents are here somewhere, and he’s sure they’d chide him for sitting alone instead of socializing with the people around him, but Oliver can’t seem to bring himself to care.

Lacing his hands together on his lap, he looks at his fingers folded together and remembers how just hours ago Felicity’s fingers had intertwined with his own as they’d stood beside the open grave, behind Tommy as he’d thrown a handful of dirt on his mom’s coffin. His dad had stood beside him like a statue, moving only when directed, a blank look on his face like he was somewhere else entirely. 

Oliver can’t imagine what Mr. Merlyn is going through. Tommy’s mom was an amazing person and was like a second mother to him. Oliver isn’t sure how to deal with all the emotions swirling inside of him. He hasn’t felt grief like this before. It’s this yawning black pit in his chest that hurts if he pays it too much attention. So he tries not to.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to lose the person you love most in the world and he’d like to never find out.

Out of the corner of his eye he catches a flash of blonde hair in the crowd. Felicity stands beside her mom, who is weeping into a handkerchief she has pressed against her face. Felicity looks at her shoes as her mom nods along to whatever the man beside her says. Her cheeks are dry but she looks miserable. Oliver doesn’t recognize the man, but that doesn’t say much because Rebecca Merlyn had connections to so many people. She might have been one of the best people Oliver knows. Knew, he corrects himself with a shake of his head.

Through the crowd Oliver spies Tommy pushing through people and concern erupts in his chest. Tommy looks upset, more so than when Oliver left him standing with his father receiving condolences from family and friends. Oliver leaps to his feet and chases after him, shoving through the crowd without a care.

Tommy disappears into the house and Oliver follows, the air conditioning a cool relief after the unusual May heatwave outside. He immediately sheds the suit jacket that his mom made him wear, dropping it on the nearest chair and loosening the tie around his neck. He lets out a relieved sigh, feeling some of the weight that’s resting on his shoulders fall off. Tommy’s disappeared once he looks around, but if Oliver has three guesses and the first two don’t count, he knows where Tommy has gone.

Sure enough, Oliver finds his best friend in the library. It was Rebecca’s favourite room in the house. Tommy’s curled up in one of the armchairs, a deep purple blanket wrapped around his shoulders despite the heat outside. A fire crackles merrily in the fireplace below a large stone mantle that holds various Merlyn family photos. Tommy’s face is hidden in the curves of the blanket, but Oliver can see that his shoulders are shaking and so he stops awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed.

Tommy is his best friend but Oliver is not the most emotional person and he doesn’t deal particularly well with tears. Felicity cries sometimes and although he desperately wants to be the one to make her feel better, he tends to steer her towards Tommy, who’s always better in those kinds of situations.

But there’s no Felicity around now, just Oliver and Tommy, and Tommy needs his best friend, so Oliver swallows, rolls back his shoulders, and walks into the room.

“Tommy? Are you okay?” Oliver cringes as soon as the words come out of his mouth because Tommy’s probably heard that question a thousand times today. He frantically searches for something better to say. Something helpful or or thoughtful or supportive. “I mean, uh…”

Tommy saves Oliver from floundering, as usual, but his answer doesn’t particularly help. “No,” Tommy says on a shaky breath, not looking up. “I’m really not okay.” 

Oliver sighs heavily, tears rising unbidden at the devastated tone in Tommy’s voice. How does he fix this? Something inside of him is demanding that Oliver fix this problem, but he’s clueless at what to do. 

He hesitates, unsure, but then Felicity is there, all sweeping emotions and embraces. She wraps skinny arms around Tommy, practically curing up in his lap, and Oliver sees faint streaks of tears on her pale face. Her eyes are closed and she doesn’t say anything, which is abnormal for Felicity, but Oliver notices Tommy relax infinitely in her embrace. 

There's a moment where none of them move. Oliver feels like he's suspended, like everything is in slow-motion. But then it all snaps back and Tommy’s shoulders are still shaking and fresh tears are joining the dried ones on Felicity’s cheeks and Oliver is gasping for breath before he even realizes he’s in motion.

He stumbles forward and Felicity’s eyes snap open, watching him through her tears. Oliver rests a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and he and Felicity stare at each other. Oliver wants to wipe away her tears and help her stop crying. He can feel it in his chest, this need to make her feel better, but he doesn’t think there’s anything he can do right now.

Felicity sniffles and wriggles off the chair. Once she’s standing she’s very close to Oliver and he has to look straight down to meet her eyes. She looks up at him with a sad smile and then nods to the couch beside them. 

Oliver leads the way as Felicity whispers to Tommy and then pulls him to his feet. She leads him to the couch and Tommy drags the blanket he’s been clutching along with him, gaze fixed firmly on the ground. He flops on the far side of the couch, and Felicity settles herself in the middle, between Tommy and Oliver. Oliver can feel the warmth from the fire across from them on his face and the fleeting thought that it’s pretty useless to light a fire during a heatwave at the end of May crosses his mind. But then Felicity presses herself against his side and he wraps an arm gently around her shoulder. Her shoulders shake against him and he takes a shaky breath. 

Looking down, he finds her face buried against his side, tears wetting the stiff fabric of his dress shirt. Oliver is pretty sure he hasn’t seen Felicity really cry since they first got the news of Tommy’s mom. There have been tears on her face but he doesn’t think she’s actually let go and cried about the whole thing. He tightens his arm, tucking her tightly against him as tears threaten behind his eyes. He wants desperately to protect her from any more pain. Felicity reaches out and blindly grasps Tommy’s fingers. He clutches her hand like a lifeline and the sorrow on his face causes tears to trek silently down Oliver’s cheeks.

They sit for awhile, intertwined, the silence broken only by the occasional sniffle from Felicity.

“So what do we do now?” Tommy eventually asks, his voice low.

Felicity hesitates and Oliver doesn’t know what to say either. “We get through this,” Felicity finally answers hoarsely, because out of all of them she’s always the one with the answers. “Together.”

Tommy nods shortly, eyes focused on the flames in front of him, cheeks wet. Oliver pulls Felicity snugly against him. His heart just hurts; there is so much pain surrounding him and he doesn’t know how to help his friends. He’s not sure what else he can do but be there for them. 

Tommy needs him because his dad definitely isn’t helping him through this; Malcolm seems to have shut out everyone around him in order to deal with the loss of his wife. And Felicity, she’s so emotional and she feels everything so deeply that Oliver knows that inside she’s hurting almost as much as Tommy.

“Together.” Oliver echoes Felicity, and he knows it in the pit of his stomach. This isn’t the end of their struggle. There’s more still to come but somehow he knows that if they follow Felicity’s advice, if they stick together, they’ll be able to combat anything.

He presses his cheek against her hair and watches as the fire slowly fades into embers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and kudos are always appreciated :)

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to know your thoughts about this one!
> 
> There will be a second part, because I can't seem to stop writing this universe. Stay tuned!


End file.
